


Wish Upon A Star

by ythmir



Category: Midnight Cinderella
Genre: (for the record im really bad at tagging stuff), F/M, Fluff, a hint of magical AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-18 02:31:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13672431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ythmir/pseuds/ythmir
Summary: Princesses can be stubborn when it involves bday gifts. But what do you give a king wanting for nothing?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> [Happy Birthday King Byron!! (better late than never!)]
> 
> A/N: in which i push the extent of how much transitioning i can get away with. also was supposed to be a birthday story but somewhere along the way, it lost that theme. insanely indulgent. but please consider giving it a look anyway. 
> 
> (originally posted sometime december in my tumblr)  
> (spare some ko-fi :))  
> (also im getting a part-time job yay)

It was that time of year again when the air had a bite.

Despite his heaviest coat, and two scarves that were wrung snugly around his neck, he could still feel the chill in the air, nipping at his face and ankles. Around him, people were starting to feel the shift in the seasons as well, hugging themselves or wearing coats, boots, and scarves to help. Even the patrolling knights have traded most of their armor for thicker and warmer clothing.

Winter was nigh, and the clouds have been getting grayer and thicker with each day. Soon, Wysteria will have its first snow for the year.

But not tonight.

Tonight, the sky was still somehow clear, stars still blinking down from the heavens. The gray clouds were simply scattered across the horizon, mere heralds of the long winter ahead.

As he continued walking, he wondered if he should pack and move further south. With his recent fortune, he could afford to take a small vacation. Leave his shop for a time to head somewhere warmer, where the sun held on to the sky for just a bit longer. He could spend the entire winter there even, and not have to worry about gray skies or snow. Or all the inconveniences that came it.

His bones especially. They ached whenever it was cold.

He could spend his winter luxuriously sprawled somewhere near the sea even, with the sun beating at his back. He would not have to wear three pairs of socks every night before going to sleep, or make sure that the fire never died, or that they always had hot soup at the ready that he could sip. Alcohol would have been an option if only to warm him but he was no good with his liquor.

The idea was tempting. He allowed his mind to wander to warmer climates as he stopped to rest under a streetlamp and for a brief moment, his thoughts wandered to the caress of summer and the smell of endless fields of grass.

Tucking in the idea, he began walking again. He would have to consider it once he had delivered the box in his bag.

It was a curious package. How much he had been paid for it, even curiouser. He could still feel a small pang of guilt for having agreed to such an arrangement but the client’s eyes had been earnest. It would have been wrong to refuse such generosity. On top of that, even after the client had saved his youngest child.

It was only proper that it fell on him to rise to the challenge and deliver the quality demanded of such a sum and good fortune. It was only proper for him to repay such a debt. And he was proud to say that he would be able to deliver. And more.

_Still, three flasks!_

_Filled to the brim, besides._

No one had asked for so many before. But it was not his business to pry. It would not be the first or the last time someone asked him for curious things. He was a merchant of rarities. The amount aside, this was one of the tamer requests.

Two more bridges. Five more blocks. Cross one last tree-lined avenue. And finally, up the zigzagging slopes, and soon he reached the tall metal gates of the Wysterian Palace.

The knights standing by the closed gate watched suspiciously as he walked closer and halted his advance the moment he reached them. As was standard procedure, they asked him to state his name and his business, and why in the gods good name did he have to come so late at night. And he obliged, introducing himself promptly, before procuring a small golden slab the size of his palm and showing it to them.

It bore the image of a swan with a crown on its head, its wings raised as if it was about to take flight. The personal crest of the Princess Elect.

At the sight of the seal, the knights asked no more questions except to see what was inside his bag before giving way. The commander of the group singled out one of the knights and without delay he was escorted into the palace and led to one of the largest drawing rooms he had ever seen in his life.

Immediately, his coat was offered to be hanged and cleaned if he liked. Tea, coffee, or something stronger could be arranged as well. He was also offered dinner despite the lateness of the hour.

“Soup, if you have it.” He answered, grateful.

The servant hesitated for a moment, looking at the box in his hands but he answered with a kind shake of his head. “I would like to hold on to this until I see the princess.”

The servant bowed and exited the room.

The man walked towards the large fireplace that seemed to be the centerpiece of the room, easing the scarves from his neck with one hand. He stood there, warming himself, his eyes watching the fire dance over the logs. Soon, the ache in his bones eased and he began to stand a little bit straighter despite having walked a long way.

When he was warm enough, he stepped back from the fireplace and was surprised to find a huge bowl of soup already at the tall table but no servant in sight. He must have returned and thought better to disturb him. Or, perhaps he had been lost in his thoughts again.

Before he could make his way towards his soup however, the heavy doors opened again. He half-expected the servant to come back with refreshments, and had half his mind to ask for something sweet, and even an excuse for it, for when he finished.

But the man entering the drawing room was no servant.

He felt his jaw drop, his grip on the box slackening.

He had transacted with him once - once - a long time ago, and back then he had not been aware of who he truly was. They called him the Midnight King; Emperor of a Thousand Stars; Lord of the Parliaments; Holder of the hand of Tyr. A man who bore many famous names, but had a face that few recognized. And though there was no crown on his head, there was no mistaking his nobility in the way he held himself.

Imposing. Regal. A monarch in every right.

A dozen questions ran through the merchant’s mind, at the forefront: why would he be here in Wysteria?

At that time of the year, when the air had a bite.


	2. Chapter 2

The question had come up unexpected.

The princess had been busy minding her own dessert after a long and stressful meeting about the final details of food service, taking care to chew as slowly as possible as the best cream she had ever had was in her mouth. When all of a sudden, in an effort to pry information from her, one of the nobles with her at the table had said, “What will you be getting His Majesty on his birthday, your Highness?”

Her answer was automatic. Mechanical, even. “Dare to guess, your grace?”

Her evasive tone was lost to the chorus of laughter from the nobles, some even teasing her for being too coy. She joined them hoping that none would press the question further.

She wanted to keep what she had prepared a secret.

For the past few years, she had always given King Byron birthday presents she had made by hand. It was intimate. It was personal. She took pleasure in being able to give him something that remained just between them that was far from their roles as monarch of their own kingdoms. And if she was going to be completely honest, it never did satisfy her to simply purchase something for him. Those were good for tokens or moments when she missed him dearly; small gifts that said he was in her thoughts. But for an occasion as special and significant as his birthday, she wanted to give him something more personal than the rest.

This year however she had had to forego that.

This year, celebrations for King Byron’s birthday would not be held in Stein. Instead, Wysteria would host him and for the first time in decades, a foreign prince consort would be celebrated within Wysterian walls. To say that the princess elect wanted the entire affair to be seamlessly grand would be an understatement. She had even submitted herself to Giles’ hellish regime in her pursuit for the ball to be beyond reproach. And leave it to the Royal Chamberlain to be able to come up with a schedule spartan enough she could oversee everything that needed her attention, to ensure that the ball would be as majestic as the person it was intended for.

The obvious downside to her hands-on approach had been that she would be unable to make something for King Byron by hand. It had troubled her. Initially.

But she had been able to find something special.

“Her Highness is smiling!” Someone said.

“I bet she has the grandest of gifts for His Majesty.” Another gushed.

“Perhaps.” She replied. She was pleased with her choice and the fact that all she would need to do was to await its delivery.

But then, one by one the nobles started listing what they had planned to present to King Byron.

Prize-winning mares.

Ancient glasswares shipped from the southern empires.

Three hundred rifles.

A rare breed of orchid that blooms only once a year.

_What?_

She felt her smile getting thinner and thinner as one by one the nobles around her continued. It seemed less like they were giving birthday gifts and more like they were amassing a treasure horde - not that King Byron deserved any less, but -

“King Byron will not forget Wysteria’s generosity on his birthday.” One of the nobles then piped. Then, much to her horror, he turned his attention to her. Was he going to broach the subject again? “We are looking forward to the ball, your Highness.”

“It will be a very grand event.” At least that much she was still truly confident about. “As is befitting our guest.”

“And we are looking forward to what you will give too!”

_Like hell, I -_

But then, Giles suddenly appeared beside her, leaning forward slightly to whisper in her ear.

She had never been more thankful for him interrupting afternoon tea, even if it was to say that a certain Steiner knight had arrived ahead of schedule to coordinate with her about King Byron’s birthday ball. She had excused herself with a smile. But as she had left the nobles listing away, an uneasiness had come unbidden and rooted itself in her chest.

Her birthday present, the one she had so painstakingly searched for and procured, suddenly felt small.

Miniscule, even.

“Giles, wait.” She called out, stopping just before they entered the throne room.

“Yes, my lady?”

“What are you getting Byron for his birthday?”

Giles looked confused for a moment but answered all the same. “We commissioned a set of decorative weapons for him.”

“A… a set of decorative…?”

“Well, I suppose they should stay as decorative weapons. The scabbard of the sword alone has a dozen tanzanites after all.”

She wondered how she could have missed it. She should have been more aware. No, she should have anticipated her court’s tendency to outdo one another even in the smallest things.

While she had been busy preparing the celebration, the Wysterian Court had taken it upon themselves to best each other with their birthday presents to the Steiner King.

And they were proving to be highly successful.

Though she was happy they were supportive - towards a foreign king no less - she wished they were less enthusiastic at competing who would give the most dazzling present. It was all well and good that they were doing so in merry spirits. And she hoped, true generosity. But the more they boasted, the less her gift seemed to be of value.

Not as incomparable as she had originally thought. What in the world had she been thinking?

Could she get him another present in time?

Should she?

“Alyn and I are giving him this.” Leo Crawford answered in turn when she visited him in their manor to ask what he and his twin Alyn had prepared. It was an intricately carved hunting knife inside an exquisite ornate black box. It looked as deadly as it was beautiful. “He enjoys falconry, right?”

“Yes.” She replied, feeling both envious and happy for King Byron. “This looks sublime.”

“I’m glad you approve.” Leo answered. “But did not Alyn accompany you when..?” He left the question hanging, a small knowing smile on his lips at seeing her frown. “Ah. Well. It’s not a competition, princess, despite the hubbub.”

“Louis is going to gift him a gilded cage for Spinner.”

“And Sid?”

“He’s keeping a lid on it. But I think, a bottle of rare wine. Or twelve. He’s been to his vineyards more often.”

“I’m sure that whatever you give His Majesty, he is going to treasure it.” Giles added, for the umpteenth time then, trying to reassure her as she sunk deeper into the sofa. “You have prepared the ball yourself, princess. Is that not a gift in itself?”

“It’s not the same.” She murmured, sullen.

“What are you giving him giving him anyway?” Leo asked as he closed the box. “Alyn won’t say.”

Alyn glared. “Why should I?”

“It’s been quite the talk of the court, you know.” Leo answered. “Archduke Sannes won’t shut up about how you’re planning on giving him one of our territories to the north.”

“I am not giving Byron an island.”

“So, what is it then?”

All of them looked at her at the same time and she squirmed in her boots and heavy coat. She could have handled it if it had been done individually. But with three pairs of eyes staring at her, all of them part of her inner circle, she found herself relenting.

“Don’t laugh.”

“We won’t.”

“I see you smirking Alyn!”

“Because you’re being dramatic about candy!”

“Candy?” Leo and Giles asked in unison.

“Not just any candy!” She retorted, defiant to the bitter end.


	3. Chapter 3

“Sugar stars!”

She could still remember the first time she had seen sugar stars; how the little girl had beamed at her, shoving a small glass bottle into her hands. “They will help with your wounds! Promise! Papa says they can heal anything!”

It had not been the most awe-inspiring circumstances. She had almost received a broken nose after all, not to mention suffered a few minor injuries. It had been during a routine inspection of the docks. For all that Wysteria boasted of the lowest tariffs and customs duties to the point that it was almost free to import and export wares into their market, there was no shortage of smugglers or illegal trade. The Princess Elect, as part of her campaign to remain aware first-hand of the plight of her people, had joined Alyn and his knights in their patrol, though discreetly, and wearing a helmet besides.

It was simply unfortunate that that had been the time trouble would get out of hand. A sudden commotion by the warehouses. The unmistakable wailing of a little girl being carried far away from her father.

She could never turn a blind eye to that.

Nevertheless, it had turned out to be a fortunate turn. For the daughter. For the merchant named Nithya, who turned out, knew his way around a street fight gone wrong when given a weapon. And for the rest of the merchants who felt safer from then on in using the warehouses to store their goods. But not so much for the sharks, or their unscrupulous members. Not even for most of Nithya’s wares regrettably, which had been collateral damage.

Or to her left hand even, which had suffered a bad cut when she was trying to deflect a strike aimed at Nithya’s youngest daughter.

As if to apologize, the little girl had rushed to thrust the confectionary into her hands - well, hand - while Alyn had been busy tutting beside her and inspecting her wound, murmuring something about Giles and losing his head.

Technically, they were not really stars, or shaped like them even, but if she raised the flask filled against the light, the colors sparkled alive. They had certainly been twinkling then amidst the rubble of the warehouse and the groans of several men echoing through the dark.

She had only been mildly curious about it, offered to her after all by Nithya’s daughter as nothing more than to help grit her teeth against the sting of the salve to her cuts. They looked like any other fancy treat from the eastern kingdoms, nothing more. She had seen more peculiar specimens.

It had been Nithya’s stories, as he offered salve for their wounds, that had gotten to her. Time seemed to have suddenly stopped and all there was his stories and the flicker of something different in his eyes.

Upon tasting the treat, she had confirmed that it was just indeed sugar.

“Balled into tiny clumps.” Alyn’s voice had been sullen as he shook more of the candy into his palm. “I take it back. It’s too perfect to be a clump.”

“You don’t like it?” She had asked.

“Like it? I _absolutely despise it_.” Alyn had grumbled and then knocked back five into his mouth. “Because I only know of exactly one rumored method you could turn sugar into something like this and it takes days. In front of a very hot pan. Extremely arduous process.”

“Can you do it?” She had tried to avoid the excitement from seeping into her tone. Alyn had made a face that looked like he was already being tortured.

_A no, then._

Before Alyn could rattle more of the candies out of the flask, she took it from him. “I was enjoying that.” He had said.

She had turned then to Nithya, a grin already unfurling on her lips, an idea beginning to bud and grow in her mind. “Nithya, can you procure more of these?”

“Of course, your Highness, Although it would take some time. With my shop in its state, I am not sure I can -”

“My knights will see to your shop. And I am willing to pay double. Triple even! But I need three flasks exactly fifteen days from now, not a day later.”

Nithya, whose color was only returning then, had suddenly paled again. “Your Highness - ”

She then motioned to his pottery. “It takes even longer to make these, am I mistaken? Surely, making candy would be easier?”

Alyn had hissed through his teeth. “Arduous process? Remember?”

She had ignored Alyn. “You’re turning down my illustrious offer?”

“But my wares -!”

She then named her final price.

Both Nithya and Alyn had gasped.

“Are you insane?” Alyn had said.

“Princess, your generosity is too much! Even for three flasks! I cannot accept so much of it without feeling as if I have cheated you! This is not -!”

She had waved both of their fussing away with her bandaged hand. “Three flasks. Filled to the brim. You say these grant miracles, yes? Then perhaps this deal is something close enough to it.”

And that had been that.

Or rather, that was supposed _to have been that._

The bed was extremely inviting when she had returned to her chambers after her visit to the Crawford manor, laying down face first unto the mattress, not even bothering to remove her coat or boots. Even when the familiar cheery air of Nico Meier, her butler extraordinaire, greeted her as he pushed a tea trolley into the room, she had simply made enough noise to be comprehensible. Thank you, leave it there, I simply need a moment.

But as much as she was physically unmoving, her body like lead sinking deeper into the mattress with each second, her mind was still vacillated,swinging incessantly between her options.

She shouted into her pillow, one obscenity after another.

And that was when Robert Branche had come to visit her.

The esteemed painter had not even bothered to wait for her reply when he knocked, instead opening the door and walking in when others would have waited outside quaking in their shoes.

“I am sure to others this would be a good time to avoid you,” He said. “But I suppose our history has made me somewhat immune to your…” He paused, choosing his words carefully, his eyes misting with nostalgia. “Sudden outbursts of profanity.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She replied with a huff of breath. “At least, not always anyway.”

“I brought tea.” Robert continued as if she had not replied at all, showing her a small box filled with brown bags before he busied himself with the trolley. Soon, the pleasant smell of spice and flowers filled her room.

She hoisted herself up from her bed. “What are you giving Byron?”

“I waived my commission fee for him.” Robert answered.

Apparently, he had been commissioned to make an extensive map of Stein and its new borders, complete with detailed minutiae that even he could not divulge fully. Its size had proved to be a balk to Robert’s studio and he had been forced to move rooms.

“I heard you were having trouble with Byron’s birthday gift.” Robert then said.

“Trouble is an understatement.”

“Tell me about it.”

Perhaps it was the way Robert had said those words, or perhaps the way he planted himself sitting on her sofa with two cups of tea before him. Regardless, Robert was poised to listen.

So she sat across him and told him of what she had learned.

It was not news that sugar was rare in the eastern kingdoms; Wysteria was simply fortunate to be able to import sugar to add to its own supply. In turn, it was not news that sugar stars were rarer. Not only because of the scarcity of the ingredient but also because making them took an extensive amount of time.

It was one thing to harvest and procure the sugar and another to melt, mix, and harden it. Again and again and again.

Perhaps it was the repeating process; it would not be the last time that labor oft-repeated with a singular purpose spawned supernatural results. Perhaps it was the emotion behind the process; unwavering belief, after all, is all that is needed to make known those that were unknown. Or perhaps, it was all three that made the sugar stars so unique.

The rarity. The toil. The orison.

If one looked at it that way, then it was possible that something so austere could bring relief, euphoria, and more.

She had been told that a man had once walked the earth with dreams bigger than he could ever hope to fulfill in a lifetime. That to bring peace he had sacrificed himself, abandoning the world. That in the penultimate moment he had wavered, beseeched as he had been by his beloved. Stay, she had said. There is still so much more to be done. Yet he could not undo his acts. And that in an effort to salvage the pipe dream he had held on for so long, or perhaps to selfishly stay just one moment longer, he had heeded her. And they had taken the sugar stars. And that they had been snatched away from the grip of death to walk the earth in eternity.

Regardless of how or why, some truly believed that sugar stars hold some sort of magical capability. There have been many accounts of sugar stars bolstering morale, of curing unknown maladies, of making lame men walk, of taming even the wildest of beasts. There were tales that superhuman guardians kept sugar stars stored in the center of complex labyrinths, allowing mortals only a scant supply.

Others dismiss the rumors as mere fairy tales. After all, how can something so simple be a source of miracles? They’ve eaten sugar stars before and were no better for it. There was no logical explanation that mere sweets could ever help accomplish superhuman tasks. The rarity of sugar was a legend in itself and it would be no surprise that it had inspired more than one tall tale. Facts swapped for fantastic prose. Identities twisted. Spice and glamor added to create a dizzying concoction.

And yet, in her mind, she could still see Nithya as he had told his tales; the solemness in his voice, the slight quiver in the air, the reverence that was unmistakable in his eyes as he ended.

_Wishes._

_Miracles._

_A second life._

_Eternity._

Needless to say and regardless of whether they were as far-fetched as it all sounded, she had no intention of reneging on her deal with Nithya. She had given her word, and her word was her honor; no amount of personal discomfort could ever make her take back what she had promised. If anything, she thought she had made a new friend; one that had blossomed from a chance meeting, her desire to protect her people, and peppered with stories of lands she had never seen, of valiant acts she hoped she could also one day accomplish.

As she summed it up, she wondered out loud if they were true and she admitted that deep in her heart, she wanted them to be. It seemed impossible and there was simply no way of ever finding out, of ever confirming the veracity of his stories.

But she had dreamed of little else since then.

“Do you still intend to give him the sugar stars?” Robert asked.

“Yes.” She said. “I still do want to give him something at least.”

A pause.

“Valeria?” Robert’s tone had been soft. Too soft. And she knew the next line would be far from forgiving. “Why do you regard your gift to be so insignificant that Byron would not like it best?”

She stammered, “Well, I -”

But before she could start Robert had cut her off, “Don’t you think that is something for him to decide? After all, it is his present.”

Silence. Except for the sound of Robert setting down his teacup. And for some reason, it seemed to stretch on forever.

“You should sleep.” Robert finally said. “It’s been an emotional day.”

“Okay.” Her voice was nothing but a whisper and it sounded more like an acquiesce to an order than an affirmation of fact.

“Valeria.” Robert had called out again, but gentler this time. She looked up then to see him looking at her with surprising tenderness on his face. “There are far more precious things in life.” he continued. “Far better things that can’t quite be wrapped up with a bow. Take it from someone who’s seen stranger things.”

She opened her mouth and then closed it again, unable to find the right words to frame a question that was creeping in her mind for some time.

“What exactly do you give a King wanting for nothing?” Robert chuckled. And yet it seemed like there was a twinge of pain in it too. “It’s the simple things, isn’t it? Like wishes within a bottle.”

“Robert -”

And then all of a sudden, someone had knocked a her door, interrupting them. “Enter.”

“Your Highness, my lord, forgive the lateness of the hour.” It was Tobias, one of her personal guards. “The merchant, Nithya. He’s here. He has come to deliver the sugar stars, my lady.”


	4. Chapter 4

What exactly do you give a King wanting for nothing?

Valeria had never walked so quickly in her entire life, stopping short of bursting into a run as she and Robert made their way towards the main drawing room. Nithya had made good his promise and even delivered it a full day ahead of schedule. Excitement and nervousness were a bundle inside of her, even as she went down the last flight of stairs.

And all the while, Robert’s words were fresh in her mind, as loud and clear as the click of his shoes as he walked behind her.

When she finally reached the hall leading towards the drawing room, she stopped. Robert followed suit but did not say anything.

“You know of sugar stars, don’t you Robert?” She said, turning to him, looking at him squarely.

“I have heard of them.” He admitted, a guilty half-smile on his face. “Once. A long time ago in my travels. But I have never seen them. To be honest, I’m a little excited.”

“Then, do you think Byron would…” But she faltered.

“Are you still nervous?”

“A little.” She answered.

“Princess,” Robert stepped closer, placing a hand on top of her head. “It’s alright to be nervous like this. You only want the best for him. I know you’ve been told countless of times that whatever you give him, Byron would love it. But the thought has only made you more nervous hasn’t it?”

She nodded, feeling calm at the weight of Robert’s hand on her head. “It was all the more reason to try and get the best for him.”

“And you had tried, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Then, let Byron have this. With all the emotion and worry you put in it too. Besides, is it not better to give him something that you thought was fitting for him? I’m sure Byron will know why you’ve picked it for him. And I’m sure he will understand.”

She looked up at him, nodding, feeling rekindled courage with Robert’s words.

They continued the rest of the way. Each step Valeria took seemed to further stoke the fires in her heart. Each step towards the drawing room made her more resolute. It was not that all of her anxiety had been blown away instantly by Robert’s words. That would be a lie. Some last dregs were still there, she could feel them. But she could not deny the veracity in Robert’s words any more than she could deny what the rest of them had told her.

How could she have forgotten what was most important to her?

Why had it taken her so long to remember?

The all-important impetus of her life.

She took a deep breath. And opened the doors to where Nithya was waiting for her, sitting on a sofa - hopefully, comfortable - and holding on to the sugar stars.

“Nithya, excellent work!” She boomed, hoping the display of confidence masked how uptight she felt about how she would give the gift tomorrow to Byron at the ball. But what she saw in the drawing room made her freeze by the door.

Nithya was not alone. He was conversing with someone by the fire and that someone was the last person she had expected to see sitting with Nithya. It was the last person she had expected to be within Wysteria, for that matter.

“Hello, Valeria. Robert.” It was Byron, a full day twenty four hours ahead of schedule.

“You were supposed to arrive tomorrow!” Valeria said, walking towards them. “Albert said -!”

“Albert covered for me.” Byron answered, a coy smile on his lips. “I was supposed to surprise you. However,” He looked at Nithya and then to Robert and then back to her. “This is far more surprising.”

“It has certainly been a while, hasn’t it?” Nithya said.

“Years, as a matter of fact.” Robert nodded.

“Wait.” Valeria spun to look at all three of them. “You all know each other?”

As it turned out, the three of them did meet each other at one point in their life.

Robert had met Nithya in his travels once in a country that no longer existed. It had simply been a passing-by, two strangers stranded in a tea shop when the rain had been relentless. They had exchanged stories to pass the time and that had been when Robert had first learned of the sugar stars.

Byron had met Nithya when the latter had been travelling in Stein when Byron had just been crowned king. The merchant had participated in a small cultural exchange program involving innovative wares from other countries. Byron had taken an interest in his pottery and Nithya had taken an interest in the various paintings in the Stein Castle, which he had been surprised to be mostly commissions by Robert.

“This all sounds too surreal.” Valeria said.

“Fate, perhaps?” Byron said.

“A happy coincidence.” Robert said.

“Serendipity.” Nithya’s nod was solemn. “I am happy to have as patrons three brilliant sovereigns. In their own right.”

“Nithya…” Robert started, raking a hand through his hair.

“I will not hear complaints.” Nithya chided him instantly. Valeria could not hide her surprise. Few people could tease Robert like that. Then he turned to her, offering the box, his bow low. “Princess, thank you for your patronage.”

“Hold your head high, Nithya.” She said, her voice soft as she took the box. “I am the one who should be thankful.”

“Hardly.” Nithya replied but he had straightened. “You have saved my youngest. This is only the bare minimum of what I owe you, your Highness.”

“Oh?” Byron’s tone was curious and Valeria felt herself blush.

“Trust Valeria to be in the thick of it, always.” Robert chuckled. “Not even three years of palace decorum could ever scrub the fight out of her.”

Byron gave her a teasing glance. “I can attest to that.”

“I am very much acing all my etiquette tests, mind you.” Valeria answered, snapping despite the obvious ruse. “Ask Louis!”

The three men laughed together and Valeria smoldered where she stood.

“But it has certainly been a while, hasn’t it?” Byron then said, turning to Nithya. “How long has it been since our last correspondence? I’m sorry I’ve been too busy.” And their conversation, steered as it was by Byron, turned away from them teasing her.

Valeria made a mental note to thank him for that later.

She took a subtle step away from them, holding on still to the box. It was certainly strange - providential, perhaps? - that Byron, Robert and Nithya knew each other from long ago. She looked at the three of them, standing side by side by the fire; old friends, chatting and catching up with one another after having been separated for so long. Whether it was by some unseen hand or mere coincidence, she felt a warm bubble seeing them together.

She could not quite understand how the idea came to her, only that the three men seemed to have shared similar burdens at some point in their life.

And she was happy at somehow unknowingly intertwining their lives together again.

It was a good way to start his birthday.

She stayed quiet, not wanting to break the moment, listening to them instead. Her eyes never straying away from Byron too long either, his calm and relaxed demeanor bringing newfound joy into her heart. A few times, he had caught her staring and he returned her smile.

It had been Nithya who broke away first, apologizing again for his sudden intrusion and wishing Byron all the best for his birthday before turning to Robert and shaking his hand profusely. Then, Robert had bid goodnight as well, teasing Byron about the enormity of his commission. And then turning to her and patting her on the head before leaving the drawing room.

Finally, it was just the two of them.

She felt her smile widen into a grin as Byron stepped closer towards her before taking her outstretched hand into his.

“Finally.” He said, a smile of his own on his lips.

“Finally.” She answered. And then added, “Thank you for saving me back there.”

“I would never let you be uncomfortable if I can help it.” He answered, kissing her forehead.

“I never would’ve guessed that all three of you have crossed paths at one point though.”

“Life is strange like that.” He answered, nostalgia masking his face. “But more importantly, what did you order from Nithya?”

Reflex took over and she stepped back and hid the box behind her back. “Well, um, you see - !”

And all of a sudden, it washed all over her again. The anxiety, the apprehension, the numerous ways it could all go down the drain.

_But no._

She remembered what her friends had said, at how they had encouraged her. She remembered Nithya and his tales and how he had reverently bowed as he gave the box to her. They’ve all helped her along the way.

Now it was her turn, so to speak.

_What do you give a King wanting for nothing?_

Byron closed the distance between them again. “Valeria?”

_The answer was so simple, wasn’t it?_

She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. “It’s for you.” She said, feeling her jaw set, her resolve seeping back into her fingers first, then spreading out. She gripped the box tighter before putting it between them. “Your birthday present.”

Byron looked curious.

“I couldn’t make you something personally this year, so I tried scouting for something as close I could get to a handmade present. And by providence, it seems, I found this.” She unhooked the latches and slowly opened the box to reveal three clear glass bottles filled with the sugar stars. In the light of the drawing room, the colors seemed to glimmer and even she gasped at the sight of them. They were far more colorful, far more like stars than she had first seen them. It was as if the box contained galaxies.

Nithya had outdone himself.

Then again, she never did mention to him it was for Byron’s birthday now, did she?

“It looks magical.” Bryon said. “What is it?”

She smiled. “I suppose I also owe you a story.”

She started from the beginning, with how she had come to know of Nithya and their unlikely encounter, and her eventual friendship with the foreign merchant. She told him that she had originally wanted to give the stars for the very simple reason that they were named like that but it had acquired a whole different meaning with Nithya’s explanation of its history. She told him of how she had all but bribed him with his own castle just so he could promise to deliver the sugar stars in time. She told him of her frequent trips to the docks to ensure his safety and that of his family. And of the other tales that Nithya had told her whenever she visited.

She followed with the small tea party, at how she had not meant to spend the past two days fretting about her gift. She had not meant to be so distracted from managing the party. It was uncharacteristic of her to balk, more so after she had been so decisive, so fervent in her decision to procure the sugar stars, so determined in protecting the docks so that more commodities of similar kind could flow freely into the city. She even mentioned how she had eventually asked everyone else what they would be giving him in order to scout out the competition.

It was embarrassing to admit that all it took was a few members of her Court enumerating what they had intended to give, for her to drown in a fit of existential dread. And that somehow she had convinced herself that the only way to emerge from it is to best them all at their own game. She knew Byron would be happy with whatever she was going to give him. She knew that he was not the type to be picky or even resentful of presents. And yet she had ignored it all.

Even to the point of ignoring her friends’ sagely advice, insanely wondering how could she do that with nothing but confectionary.

But that had been beside the point.

Looking back at it all now, as she and Byron held hands under the guidance of the night sky, it had all been so far removed from the original point.

She owed all of them their own flask of sugar stars. For putting up with her, with all that.

When she was done telling her tale, right up to the part when she had arrived at the drawing room, she let out a very long sigh, still internally chiding herself for having been so worked up about something that mattered so little. But before she could say sorry for the umpteenth time -

Byron started to laugh.

It took her a moment to realize what was happening, his laughter catching her off guard. His shoulders were shaking as he was trying to contain it, making his laughter richer. More melodious. For a moment, she was indignant and she struggled for a retort of some sort.

However, it was a hard stance to maintain. Her beloved was beside her after all, full of mirth at the silliness of her escapade. And before she could stop herself. Soon, she was laughing too.

They were at her balcony, under the stars, laughing and holding hands all the while. It was a sound, she realized, that she had missed hearing for so long.

“I’m sorry.” Byron finally said, still chuckling. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No, I should be the one saying sorry.”

Byron shook his head. “You’ve done nothing that needs forgiving.”

She gave him a tight smile. “I should never have thought of those things in the first place. I got caught up in my own internal reproach I lost sight of what was really important to me. I was too focused on trying to win an imaginary contest. It should never have mattered whether you liked my gift best or not. Because that was never the point.

“The point has always been, that I love you and that you mean the world to me, and that I wanted to give you something that symbolized that and could make you happy to boot. A tall order, I know and I’m sorry that I couldn’t find -”

“But these are the perfect fit, don’t you think?” Byron then said. There was no teasing in his tone. He was looking at the flasks between them. “I think I understand why you chose these.

“Nithya’s tales. What the sugar stars symbolize in the eastern kingdoms. The myths. It’s alleged supernatural properties. Everything that you told me.” Byron’s tone was almost wistful. “I think it’s fitting.”

She could feel her jaw dropping in surprise. “How much of my reasons were you able to see through already?”

‘I love you.” Byron said simply. “And that’s why I know you. And that’s why I think at least, I am able to decipher your reasons.”

Her heart, which had not been still the entire time, suddenly began to beat faster than she thought was possible without it coming undone.

_Robert should have two flasks of sugar stars._

“You’re not mad I did all that?”

“No.” Byron replied, the laughter returning now. “You spoil me, to be honest. To think that you’ve given so much thought on a single gift. I don’t think anyone else can have this kind of privilege, to worry the proud Princess of Wysteria.”

“You don’t think I was being,” she waved her hand at herself, “overly dramatic?”

He raised his brows in mock surprise.

“Byron!”

He let out a short laugh. “But you’ve always had a certain fire to you. And so stubborn -”

“Tenacious, you mean.”

“- and irredeemably passionate.” He reached out to stroke her cheek, his gaze fond. She leaned against his palm. “It always leads you to such extraordinary feats. I just hope that next time, you don’t have to be injured for it. Because tonight won’t be the last, I can already tell.”

“Giles tells me he’s going to have a heart attack one day.”

Byron chuckled. “Albert says the same to me. At least, ever since I met you.”

She made a mental note to discuss that with Albert later.

“However, I would advise that if something like this troubles you again, banish the thought.” He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “You’re already the best present I can ever have in this lifetime.”

Her heart did somersaults, wildly beating against her ribs and she could do nothing to tame it. She could only smile, gripping back his hand just as tight, feeling and trying to channel her love for him into that one gesture.

He looked back to the flasks. “Sugar stars, is it?” He uncorked a bottle then titled it towards his palm. Beneath the full moon, the candies came alive in his hand, sparkling.

“They’re beautiful.” He whispered. “Almost a shame to eat them”

“I thought the same too.”

“And legend says these grant wishes.”

“That, and more. But you have to make a wish as you eat them.” She answered. Then realized Byron had never asked a question.

There was a thoughtful glint in his eye. “Do you believe him?”

“That these have mystical properties? That they are able to heal wounds? That they contain enough magic in them to make certain that your soul is able to travel through time to reconnect to the person you love above all? To grant eternity?”

Byron waited for her answer.

“I’m not sure.” She said surprised at her own rueful tone. “But if something happened to you, if something happened to us that seemed impossible to overcome, I think I would just might get some of these sugar stars to help.”

Byron smiled. “I promise I will do everything so it doesn’t have to come to that.”

She knitted her brows, confused, but Byron was already studying a single sugar star in-between his fingers. It was almost as if he was already making a wish, raising it to the sky so that the stars blinking down at them could bear witness. She chose not to say anything, instead watching as he put them into his mouth. “Sweet.” He said.

“Too sweet?”

“Just right for my taste.” He answered, satisfaction in his features. “My compliments to its maker.” Then, he offered some to her.

She raised her hands, surprised. “Byron, those are for you! I couldn’t possibly -!”

“Dreams are sweeter when shared.” He insisted. “It makes the magic more powerful, no?”

And how could she refuse him then?

“All right.” She opened her palm and Byron shook a few sugar stars out of the bottle. “Happy birthday, Byron.” She said, bringing to candy to her lips. “May all your dreams come true.”

“And may you be there to see it.” He replied, leaning in to kiss her.

The sugar stars were indeed sweeter than she last remembered. And it seemed to dissolve easier now, the grains of sugar turning almost syrupy inside her mouth. But whether it was because Byron had given them, or because he was with her to share with, she could not tell.

What do you give a King wanting for nothing?

They’ve all reminded her of the answer to that.

You give him everything else. You give him even the simplest of things. You give him reason to enjoy everything that he has.

You give him a chance to live.

In that moment, both Valeria and Byron had made a wish.

And the universe had heard it.


End file.
